Legacy
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: Tell me. Ask me. Speak, and I shall answer. But as we talk, ask yourself this: Who are you? What are you? Why you do fight? Why do you live and oppose the government? Are you Kallen Stadtfeld or Kallen Kozuki? That, we shall see. DISCONTINUED.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer :** All characters and places belong to whoever owns them, ©2007-2008. If you do know, please answer in a review.

_A/N: In honor of the new season, Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion R2, this fanfic is written in tribute to the days leading up to the aftermath of Season One. Originally, Legacy was intended to be a one-shot, but seeing that the introduction came out much longer (and more descriptive) than I planned, it will now come in the form of a short multi-chaptered story. It's also the beginning of many Kallen-centric stories to come :D. (Look at my profile's avatar; guess who it is, LOL!)._

_On a side note, the line: '. . .kill instead of love, hate instead of forgive, plot instead of accept' comes from a fanfiction called "The Unonian Rose The First Book of Fox McCloud" in the Star Fox section. Kudos goes to ToddMcCloud (the author) for coming up with it._

_I do hope everyone enjoys this. Concrit is appreciated, as always._

* * *

**Legacy**

* * *

_"Fiat justitia et pereat mundus.  
(Let justice be done, even should the world perish)."_  
-- Ferdinand I

_"Always remember you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion  
to reach for the stars to change the world."_  
-- Harriet Tubman

* * *

Tell me, soldier, why do you fight? Why do you insist on changing the world? It is a very vast place, let me tell you. It's not just the cities or the ghettos which are battlegrounds. Not Shinjuku, Kawaguchi, Narita, or Area 11 itself. Yes, they are battlegrounds, but it is the mind which is the true stage of war.

Think about it: hundreds, no, _thousands_ of people have been affected by his actions. The poor, the strong, the weak -- the Britannians and the Elevens, they were all changed. What do you think fueled the rebellions? What do you think drove them to the brink of madness? What pushed them to act as they did on that fateful day?

You must understand he has his reasons for doing what he does. For his sister, for a brand new world, it is his duty to take up the mantle of Avenger. Why? Well, that is something best served for another day, but nonetheless it is a mission he must fulfill. He cannot rest until the last man falls.

But it bothers you, doesn't it? It troubles you that a man you hardly know is under the guise of a cold-blooded tactician. He is the man you followed through every battle, tearing down Britannian forces and foiling catastrophic disasters. He is the man whom trusted you to the Guren Nishiki, who gave you a position as commander of his Honor Guard. He is the man who hid his true identity from the world and wrought destruction unto the Holy Empire, he who is the Black Angel of Death.

Who, exactly, is Lelouch Lamperouge? That, my friend, is for you to find out. But tell me, Kallen, _who_ are _you?_

Ahh, now we are getting somewhere. Your mind says _what?_, but your eyes say _how?_

Listen to me, Kallen. I know more of you than you will ever know yourself. To understand somebody, one must understand himself. He must search deep within himself, deep into the inner folds of his soul and his very existence. He must ask himself why he lives, why he fights, why he breathes, why he is just _being_. He must look past himself and ask _How do I change?_ He must look beyond himself and ask _What will I change?_

The mind is a very complex thing. It is there we learn from our mistakes, our desires, our sorrows, and our destinies, lest we forget who we are. Everything happens for a reason, Kallen. Change must happen by our own hands. If we do not commit change, how will we know the results of our fruition? How will we have known we made a difference?

People cannot warrant to stand around forever. They will rise from the ashes of Old Japan, rise from their burning nests and strike at the heart of Evil. They will brook no nonsense, no cowardice or weakness, so long as they take back what was once theirs. Their pride, their name, their rights, their power.

It is yours as well. It is _your_ pride, _your_ name, _your_ rights, _your_ power. They wrongfully denied it to you, refused to have you at their level. And who wouldn't? History is merely bathed in blood and guts.

Now now, Kallen, _relax_. I didn't mean it that way. I was only stating the facts, the truth of the matter. War is something no person should ever experience, but life isn't always fair. Nothing is free save our minds and our hearts. They are two facets of a whole -- one in which we think is right and one in which we feel is right. Nonetheless, they are intrinsic. Without a heart we are empty. Without a mind we are cold. Without both we are empty _and_ cold. We are machines. Nothing more, nothing less.

Those who fight for the weak and the down-trodden are not machines. You are certainly not a machine. I see in you a girl who has suffered tragedy, deceit, prejudice, and hate. I feel the pain of losing your kin, his wide eyes and bright smile dashed in bullets and gunpowder. I feel the anger of your father's betrayal, he who walked out on a family wrapped in grief. I feel the shock of your despair, the beatings you received because of the blood you carry. I feel the love for your mother, the love for your nation, the love of life. . .

And yet. . . since when has all been fair in love and war?

Despite the hardships you have gone through -- the pain, the suffering, the sadness and loneliness -- you have a kind heart, blessed with a kinder soul. But you are confused; you wander in a fog thick and impregnable. You want answers. You want meaning. You want to know why things happen this way, why things should have gone in your favor. You want to know why we kill instead of love, hate instead of forgive, plot instead of accept. Why we can't just throw down our weapons and say _Enough is enough_. . .

Destiny is a cruel lady. Some things. . . just happen for a reason no mortal can ever comprehend. Our actions can be for the greater good or the greater evil. That is something we need to take into our own hands. That is why change exists. Change. . . is indefinite.

You want to find someone you can talk to. You want to vent your feelings and uncork the bottle which suppresses your emotions.

If there someone you can turn to, let it be me. Let me be that person, Kallen. Open your heart and I will listen. I will listen to everything you say. Any question you ask will be answered to the best of my abilities. But please remember this: some things are best left secret, some which are best left open.

Tell me. Ask me. Speak, and I shall answer. But as we talk, ask yourself this: Who are you? What are you? Why do you fight? Why do you run from the past? Why do you live and oppose the government?

Who are you? Are you Kallen Stadtfeld or Kallen Kozuki?

That, we shall see.


	2. I: Alea Iacta Est: The Die Is Cast

**Disclaimer :** All characters and places belong to Sunrise Inc., ©2007-2008.

_A/N: Finally! I'm finished with this chapter! I've been trying to get this out since last week, what with a bit of writer's block and watching Code Geass R2. But it's done; I don't have to do anymore to it (except in the case of editing)! So next chapter will be started on next week. Keep those reviews coming!_

* * *

_"Audi famam illius__  
Solus in hostes ruit__  
et patriam servavit.__  
Audi famam illius__  
Cucurrit cuaeque  
tetigit destruens."_

_(I've heard legends of this person,  
__How he plunged into enemy territory,  
__And how he saved his homeland.__  
I've heard legends of this person,__  
How he traveled the breadth of the land  
Reducing all he touched to rubble.)_

-- Super Smash Bros. BRAWL Main Theme (Partial)

* * *

**I.**

**_Alea Iacta Est_  
(The Die Is Cast)**

* * *

"People of the World! Fear us, and seek us out! We are the Order of the Black Knights!"

The eyes of Britannia and its denizens fell upon them like the stony, grim gaze of the Great King Ozymandias. Their attention, once held captivated by the crumbling Kawaguchi Lake Convention Center and the White Knight Lancelot, was now averted to the landing craft floating on the calm waters.

Their gaze was all-powerful, dreadful and withering as the fair kings of old folklore, but Kallen Stadtfeld willed away the uneasiness to the far depths of her mind. With anxiety worming in her gut and the irrational fear of the unknown making her frantic heart pound, the young'in focused solely on the star-studded horizon.

But those words would not stop echoing. While the tinted visor covering her eyes gave the impression of deep thought, she could not help the insistent tugging in the back of her head. This force, this supernatural occurrence defying the laws of physics, pulled Kallen's field of vision to the man swathed in darkness. She did not know why the need to look upon this stranger was so strong, but somewhere buried in the primal part of her psyche, a place new and ancient as the budding of spring flowers, it felt important that she should.

She held this stranger, this man named Zero, in her periphery. She studied him head to toe, her thoughts complying to individual sets of lingering heresies and parables resounding after a second hasty examination.

His shoulders were relaxed and his back ramrod straight. He sported a tall, wiry build with tell-tale signs of lanky musculature. His stance was rigid and immobile like a pillar of rock braving the fury of Mother Nature.

For whatever reason she could not define, Kallen could not help but feel that the masked one looked noble, almost kingly, in the black suit and cape. The sound of his voice, rich and full with youth, radiated a strength unlike anything she had ever heard. When the Britannians spoke it was loud and menacing, laced with the venom of control and superiority. But this man, this mysterious fellow who appeared out of nowhere, was nothing like them. He sounded firm and just with the air of a nobleman. There was no fear, no hesitance.

Who was Zero? What was he? Questions invaded the young'in and curiosity poked her in the side. Perhaps he was a very important person, a turncoat who abandoned Britannia, or an Eleven who could no longer stand the mistreatment his people were given. Who knew?

_'Who could he possibly be?'_ Kallen wondered. She was ready to slip from reality to the forefront of her concerns when Zero continued.

"We are allies to those who are without power, be they Elevens or Britannians! The Japan Liberation Front took many Britannian civilians as hostages and murdered them in cold blood. It was a meaningless act, a coward's method of justice, and for that they were punished."

For a moment in time shame found its way into Kallen's core, clutching and caressing her with heavy, grease-laden fingers. She bowed her head and frowned. The contingent held against their will were innocent; what did they do to deserve death? Yes, they were despised for stripping the Japanese of everything they held dear, for raping their country and planting their flag in blood-soaked soil. Elevens had every right to be angry, so why did the JLF go to such extremes? There was good and bad in everyone, including (albeit to her reluctance) the ill-bred Britannians. If the Front really wanted to show their opposition, they would have attacked directly at the heart of the Empire's most prominent places of resource and mobilization.

There was no point in taking innocent people hostage. What good would it be to face the enemy head-on when many brave (and foolish) Elevens fell? What good came from seven years of war? Where were the strong, hard-headed warriors of Old Japan?

"The former Vicereine, Prince Clovis, was the same," said Zero. "He ordered the slaughter of unarmed Elevens."

_'Japanese,'_ stressed Kallen, fists clenching tightly. _'Japanese, not Eleven!'_ What were they in the eyes of the Holy Empire? Animals? Subhumans? Slaves? No! They were Human, people with hearts and minds and feelings! They were not ideas, not tools or creatures left to shrivel and die in the dust!

_(They are Human! More Human than Britannia will ever be!)_

Azure orbs hardened to chips of icy steel. _'We're not Numbers!'_

"I cannot ignore such atrocities. Thus I have punished him, and returned him to the earth from whence he came."

Justice. . . where was the justice in their actions? Where was the justice in their attacks? What right did they have to imprison the Japanese? What right did they have to call themselves Gods, the Kings of Chaos and Perfection?

_'Curse them all!'_ swore the freedom fighter. An array of emotions, varying from hate to anger to damning frustration, made itself known. The shame weighing on her heart vanished beneath the tide of fury, and a storm began to rage. _'I will put those bastards in their place, Brother. I will show them, so help me God!'_

After all, they were machines. Nothing more than soulless vessels purging the humanity from those people. _Her_ people, she corrected. Britannia would never rise above her ire.

_'I'll never bow down to them. I'll never give myself to them. Not a chance in Hell will they force me to my knees and relinquish my honor as a Japanese! I am Nippon; no more, no less!'_

It was times like these Kallen despised being a product of both worlds.

"I do not refuse to fight. However, I will never allow the strong to bully the weak!"

Suddenly she awoke, as if startled by a surreal fantasy. Who was that speaking? Kallen looked about the landing craft in a daze, passing glances at her comrades-in-arms. They each graced a small smile and a flickering flame in their eyes which could only be described as pride. Even Tamaki, with his shoulders slumped and his scowl ever present, was matching their demeanor. What caused this change?

"The only ones who can shoot are those who are prepared to be shot by others. No matter how powerful our enemy may be, when they attack the powerless, we shall appear again."

That's right. . . It was Zero. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't realize he was still talking. However, it didn't mean she was deaf to his musings.

"We shall strike at the Heart of Evil and vanquish the demons! We shall banish the harlots who lust on your pain and grief! We shall pierce their wicked souls and deliver them unto the light!" His voice boomed across the lake, and every face -- young and old, Eleven and Britannian -- gazed upon him in shock and awe. "We shall never die! If we should fall we shall rise, rise from the ashes of Old Japan and bequeath on the Head of Britannia our Creed!

"You with power, fear us! You without power, find us! We, the Order of the Black Knights, will come and judge the World!" Zero spread forth his arms and bent his chin, an angel sent down from Heaven. Silence reigned as his words faded, and a chill breeze picked up the bulk of his cloak.

And then it happened. Kallen didn't know how or when it did, but as the cries and cheers from Elevens came to them on the wind she knew that something had changed for the better. The numbers were few, but she swore she heard their joy and consent from as far as the mainland.

She strained her ears and listened, every aspect of her being open to the melody of their unity. And what a sound it was! Such thunder! Such power! Kallen couldn't remember a time when her people felt so inspired by the thoughts of another person, much less a masked man. Yet it felt so right, so historic. The time had come for them wake up from their spiritual abyss and stand once more. Raise their fists and wave the flag, the Land of the Rising Sun would soon break through the ominous clouds and shine their defiance upon the Holy Empire!

"A Hero," she murmured through the emotion building in her throat. Her head felt light and her chest swelled with warmth, but by the Gods it felt wonderful! So alive and focused with life!

She sniffled, took a deep breath and exhaled, smiling good-naturedly. Yes, all was right in the world. So _damn right_.

"A Hero," Kallen repeated, "no. . . a _Savior_. A Savior of Justice. A passionate, long-awaited Savior of Justice." She brought her left hand up to her face, studying the lines and texture adorning her lovely sun-kissed complexion. Blood flowed in rivulets, wounds inflicted by nails digging into the skin while in the midst of her reflections, down her palm and past her wrist.

Kallen blinked, and slowly the realization dawned on her. The blood in every single human being on Earth may have shared the same color and some of the numerous blood types, but the blood that she and the entire Eleven population carried was theirs and theirs alone. It was their loyalty, their power, their fortitude, and their honor that kept them alive through centuries of war and inner turmoil. This latest addition in the history books had crushed their hopes and dreams, but it seemed that with the enigmatic Zero in their possession, all that would change.

_'Of course! What was I thinking? Zero's an Eleven! That's why he came to us. To fulfill a dream denied by time. . . He is truly a son of Nippon.'_

Her grin broadened. Blood was thicker than water. There wasn't a chance in hell he was Britannian, but none of that matter.

They had a fighting chance to win the battle; land, name, and all.

* * *

Ahh yes, I remember that day very well. The day the Order of the Black Knights was established, the day a new era was ushered into the savaged World and its fate was decided. It was the day Lelouch walked on the path of carnage and never looked back.

He had no regrets.

He knew full well the dangers he would put himself and those around him in. He knew that to reveal himself would be outrageous to all who followed him, to those who despise him and to those who view him as the Messiah delivered_ ab ovo_**(1)**. If the public found out he was more than just a Britannian student, it would not just be hell that would break loose.

You, as well, know the consequences. To admit yourself to Miss Ashford and her coupe was a bold and costly move. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

You are a proud person, Kallen. A proud and honorable person fitting of the warrior name. Your heart is true to the nation shadowed by law, holding it with the greatest tension. I look at you and see a strength unbridled from crimson chains, and in your eyes there lays a fire burning brightly among the darkness and decay of your fallen land.

I kid you not when I say this. There is no hesitance, no doubt, of the decision you have made. But it is a long and tiresome road, one that will test the limits of your heart and the very center of your soul. You will make choices that may shatter the trust of your allies and turn newly forged friendships into long-lasting animosities. Events will shape you into something wholly desired or mostly fear. Each and every path is open, but it is you who must decide which of these realities you will make happen.

Only you, Kallen. No one can guide you to this time-defying dream save yourself. We may help you consider the options, but we cannot lead you. The fate of the future,_ your_ future, rests in your hands.

. . . Oh, really? You believed Zero lead you on the right path? You believed he was showing you the light to Old Japan's salvation? Heh, you are so naive. Only children are wont to do that. And you, my friend, are no longer a child.

You're a soldier. Think like one. Lelouch abandoned the Black Rebellion to ascertain a piece of his existence. Would you have continued fighting if someone close to you was in danger? Even if it was at the cost of a hundred, a thousand, or a million lives, would you still do it?

What if it was your mother, Kallen? What, then, would you do? Would you go and rescue your flesh and blood or defend your country as you so strongly wish?

Not an easy two-way street, is it? Either way it's a lost cause. People will die in the process. The world will still be awash in sorrow and anger. And it'll just keep repeating, over and over and over.

In war, no one is spared.

So why do you keep going? Why fight against the Holy Empire? To them you are just a Number, a fish without water. They'll tear you apart; they'll rip you and maim you and humiliate you like the sharks they are. You and every Eleven on the face of the four islands are at the bottom of the food chain. . . . and yet you still fight.

Why? Is it because you have nothing else to live for? Is it because you want to make a name for yourself? To right a wrong? Or is it because you want the Britannians to feel the same pain that you were put through since the dawn of war?

. . . Look at me, Kallen. _Look at me._ Look at me, Kallen, straight in the eye. Tell me the truth. What were you doing before Lelouch arrived? What were you doing after Naoto died? Where were you when your mother cried herself to sleep, dreaming of days bygone when the world was right? Where were you when she pricked her skin and slipped that needle in her Eleven blood? Where were you when she needed you the most?

. . . I see. I find it funny that a half-ling helps her fellow patriots in the heat of combat, but never bothers to lift a finger when her kin is at the glaring end of her stepmother's gaze. Sounds like someone awfully familiar, doesn't it?

. . . Part of fighting is having a purpose or goal in mind. To justly avenge a loved one, to defend his country, to sacrifice himself for the sake of another. Those are purposes. Revenge, however, is not. Vengeance is a devil that will get you nowhere in life. If it does not lead you to oblivion, it will lead you to your death.

Your hate for Britannia is unfathomable, and I know not if it will ever fade. But one thing I do know is that you have to let go this idea of divine justice.

Let it go, Kallen. Do not cling to it! If you do not wish to die young, I suggest you buck up and get your act together. Time waits for no one, not even you.

* * *

**(1)** In Latin, this means 'from the egg'. In literature, this is used as the absolute beginning of events, the earliest point in the story. C.C.'s explanation of _ab ovo_ refers to the first time Lelouch decided to destroy Britannia (pre-series, Episode 1).


	3. II: For The Sake Of Love

**Disclaimer :** All characters and places belong to Sunrise Inc., ©2007-2008.

_A/N: Dedicated to Lady, my dog (December 28, 1994 - June 1, 2008). You'll always be in my heart._

* * *

_"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep  
And miles to go before I sleep."_  
-- Robert Frost, _Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening_

_"As for me, to love you alone, to make you happy, to do nothing which would contradict your wishes, this is my destiny and the meaning of my life."_  
-- Napoleon Bonaparte

* * *

"How do you expect me to let go, C.C.? How do you expect me to do that when everything and everyone I cared for was taken away from me?! My brother dies in the war, my bastard of a father walks out on us, and my mother goes to jail for possession of drugs! How can I keep going?!"

"You can still fight. You can make the impossible happen."

"Fight . . . Fight for what? My name? My rights? My damned blood? You don't know how many times I've been close to giving up, C.C. So close have I been to taking that one step over the knife's edge. So close have I been to the ocean shore and barely avoided the tide. I wanted to take it all away. I wanted to lay back, close my eyes, and wish for it to disappear."

"But you can, Kallen. You can end it anytime."

"I can't do it. I can't do it no matter how many times I tell myself to make it quick. And when I think about it, I can imagine opening my eyes to a light so holy and a face so kind and gentle. I would place my hand in his and drift forever among the stars. But when it comes down to it, I know it's not the answer. He wouldn't approve of it, not in the least bit."

"Is that so? Then what do you think he would say about you? Or better yet, what would Kaname say? That the apple of their eye has spoiled to such selfish extents . . ."

"Selfish?"

"Were you not listening to me? I said selfish. _Selfish_. That is what you are. A selfish, two-faced half-breed."

"Now you hear me out, witch! I am Nippon! I am a Child of Japan! No matter who or what I am, I will always be Japanese!"

"But you can't deny it. You can say all you want, but you can't hide from the truth. You may hate Britannia for their wrongdoings. You may hate Britannia for stealing away your family, but you are Britannia nonetheless."

"You think I don't know that? You think I can just take it in stride and fight the good fight like that snake Lelouch? Sooner or later people are going to find out I'm a Quisling**(1)**, and when they do they will . . ."

"Reject you? Abandon you? Look around you, Kallen. Traitors and conspirators are everywhere. Don't tell me you're not one of them."

"I'm not!"

"So are you willing to abandon the blood of your kinsmen? Are you so cruel as to betray the country that lent you a piece of their heart and soul?"

"We have our reasons, C.C.! We fight to bring down Britannia! To relinquish our kin of their taint and show them the Light of A New World! That is the meaning of our battle!"

"But Lelouch has a right to contest the might of the Holy Empire. You, on the other hand, contend to a cause lost amidst the fires of the Second Pacific War. How can you change the World when you can't even change yourself?"

"I did change, C.C. You weren't there that day, but when my mother held my hand and looked into my eyes I felt something change inside of me. Yes I'll admit it was a small change, not the sort of change Zero would make or Britannia would force upon, but it was change nonetheless!"

"Then prove it. Prove to me you are this just, noble warrior. Prove to me you have never sinned and I shall take back what I said."

* * *

(But the night was still young, and the air still cold. The city was quiet save for the wind's roaming sighs.

(Kallen looked up at the sky, at stars so bright and far, so few and many. Up in their Heaven they lay, shining and twinkling without a care, and suddenly she felt small. So very, very small.

(All was right with their world.

("Well?" came the voice at her front. Kallen turned and saw her, an imposing statue unlike any other wrought by human hands. Lithe, strong, and so terrifyingly beautiful. Her portals were of polished topaz, her face white as marble, and her stance -- oh her stance! -- Auguste Rodin**(2)** would be astound!

(Kallen felt even smaller.

("R-Right." And she spoke her tale under a cloak of stars and the late August moon).

* * *

**II.**

**For the Sake of Love**

* * *

_Kallen . . ._

_Kallen . . ._

_Kallen . . ._

". . . Mother?"

_Kallen._

Warm hands cupped the small, round face. Her eyes, wide and blue and innocent, tilted and met an equally seraphic sea.

The woman smile. _My little girl, I'll always be with you._

_'Mother . . .'_

* * *

Kallen awoke with a gasp. She panted, feeling the heat encase her like a wool blanket. Her eyes searched left and right, to and fro, startled by the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Where am I?"

A soft groan. "Kallen . . ."

Who was what? The girl turned to the sound of the voice, and immediately her sight fell upon the slumbering figure of her mother. Propped up by pillows she lay on the bed, clad in a hospital gown and hooked up to a machine. The heart monitor beeped, slow and rhythmic, a steady metronome reminding the sole occupant of her mother's continuing existence.

_Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . ._

It brought to mind the image of a grandfather clock. It stood tall and imposing, its face an archaic design that, if given the time to observe, wrought mysteries and stories of old. Each click from the second hand lulled her to a platonic state, each ripple of time showing her a heaven she would never see. The shivers it sent down her spine placed her in a pool of memories both past and present. There would be _could haves_ and _would haves_, even _might have beens_ and _had beens_. Whichever path she saw she looked, and was amazed.

_(And she saw his face, pale and blank. She touched him, expecting a wide smile and soft brown eyes. But there were none. He was cold, plastic . . .)_

_(He stared at her, long and hard, taking in the mop of red hair and cerulean orbs. She watched, frozen and apprehensive, waiting for judgment to be passed. But he glared, dissatisfied. He huffed, turned his back on her and walked away . . .)_

_(They knocked her to the ground and they pounced her. Fists slammed into both cheeks and feet kicked at a battered ribcage. She yelled, she screamed, she cried, to STOP! STOP! STOP! but they did not stop . . .)_

_(Eyes clenched shut, the knife to her wrist. Waiting, waiting, for nirvana to come . . .)_

_(Look at them! Look at how they reduce you! Suffer the children, you hapless hounds! Bathe in their blood and be merry! She shakes her fist at the Sun, the Moon, the Stars, all that tower over Britannia . . .)_

_("I will take back what is lost," he said. His hand swept through the air. Behind him was a grim city basked in overcast sunlight. "and I assure you, Kallen of Nippon, we shall ache no more.")_

_("I don't need you!" she cried over the roar of gunfire and warning klaxons. She held her mother's form above the Glasgow's head. "I DON'T NEED YOU!")_

The silence was utterly damning.

Kallen averted her gaze, prefering to stare down at her hands.

They were shaking.

_'By the Gods . . . What sort of person are you?'_

The scar burned, reeked of copper and oppression.

_'What the HELL are YOU?'_

She shut her eyes.

("Look at the sky, Kallen," said she. Her long dark hair drifted in the breeze. "Look at how wide and free it is, how clear and blue it is. It's beautiful, don't you think?"

(The child nestled closer, her head laying comfortably in her lap. "It is. But you are beautiful, too, Mother."

(Her mother blushed and smile. She stroked the young'in's fiery mane, slowly and tenderly. "Thank you, Kallen. It does my heart well to know I have a wonderful daughter.")

_'No.'_

She opened her eyes.

_'No. I'm not a wonderful daughter.'_

Her scar stopped throbbing.

"I'm a fool," she whispered. "A self-conceited fool."

She gave a tire sigh and ran her hands down her face. What had happened? Where did it all go? The time before war, an age before blood and death, an era of mobilized Knightmare Frames and uniformed soldiers; they were a distant memory. Before the Great Divide, the Britannian-Japanese name meant being a creature of both sides of the racial spectrum. Before the Second Pacific War, families lived and cities prospered.

Before hell came on a black stallion, Kallen was normal.

_'Normal . . . Does such a word exist anymore? What does normal constitute today? What defines normality?'_

She remembered the scene where those four Britannian punks attacked the Eleven hotdog vendor outside the Ashford Academy campus. How he cowered beneath them, how he shook and whimpered with each hit that landed on his body, how no one stood to take his pain for himself. Pride and prejudice urged her to defend her kinsman, but _his_ hand stayed her in place.

("What do you think would happen if you helped him and won?" he had said. "He wouldn't be able to do business here tomorrow. He chose to be a Britannian slave. That's what it means to live in the Settlement.")

And those words . . . How could she not forget them?

("That's why I don't do anything. That man understood as well. He could live better off if he bowed before Britannia.")

Her brow furrowed.

_'How can you be so callous? How can you just stand there and watch my people get hurt and killed? For God's sake, your best friend is an Eleven! And you say you want nothing to do with this?'_

She scoffed. At least Zero had a mind to enact change! He cared for the nature and well-being of Elevens. He rebeled against Britannian supremacy and challenged the might of their authority.

_'But what have you done?'_ asked her conscience. _'What have you done to make a difference?'_

"I fight," said Kallen, flexing her fingers. "I fight to protect my precious people. I fight to free them from their mathematical prisons."

And then, a thought. _'You fight for Elevens but not for your mother?'_

A chill went through her body. Kallen looked at the woman with a vague expression of scrutiny. There was hardly any sign of breathing, and her eyes did not twitch or roam. If if were not for the heart monitor the girl would have thought her blood-kin had died in her sleep.

_(What have you done to make a difference? What did you do to change the World?)_

That did not stop her heart from skipping a beat.

("Even if you can stand every little thing, eventually it'll wear you out.")

Her throat clenched.

_'Dammit, Milly, why'd you have to say that? Why did your father have to find out I'm a half-ling? Why couldn't you keep your damn mouth shut?'_

She swallowed nervously, and the scar once again began to burn.

("Staying out all night, skipping school. I even hear you're going in and out of the ghettos. And all because your father is in our homeland." The mistress turned a narrowed eye on the older Stadtfeld. "You really are like your mother.")

(_"But I'm nothing like her!"_ she exclaimed, fists curling on the window sill. _"I'm not weak or defenseless! I don't cling to the past! I am nothing like her and I never will!"_)

"But you are like her," said a world-weary Kallen. "You are like her . . . no matter how much you deny it. You have the same blood, the same eyes, the same hair, the same smile. She's always there . . . inside me."

The young'in sighed. Her hands ceased their tremble and fell into her lap.

"And to think . . . that part of me will disappear."

Sobriety settled save for the irritant buzz of the lights. Then, without warning, her chest swelled unlike anything she ever felt consume her being. It was cold, lifeless, blotted with morgues of dread and -- could it be? -- sorrow.

"--Kallen."

She perked at her name. Turning around she saw, to her amazement, the Stadtfeld matriarch stir from the confines of deep sleep. Kallen, however, did not notice her movement was slow and her irises dazed.

"Mother . . . Oh Mother, I'm so . . . so . . ." Glad? Relieved? Why did this emptiness still exist? She decided on another approach. "How are you feeling?"

The woman did not answer nor did she look to see her daughter's face.

"Mother?" inquired the half-ling. She reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder (nothing like that detached hand!). "Are you okay? Are you still tired?"

Still no answer.

". . . Mother?"

Nothing.

The swelling came at full force. Painful, unforgiving, merciless, she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand it at all! Her breath quickened -- faster faster faster! What was wrong? What went wrong?

_'Calm down, calm down!'_ her conscience cried.

_'I can't! Something's not right!'_ she cried back. Her eyes stung. The scar pulsed. _'Why isn't she speaking? Why isn't she LOOKING AT ME?'_

But it continued. _'Calm down, calm down! Calm down, calm down!'_ A dissonant chant.

The heart monitor followed the same beat.

_Beep . . . Beep . . . Beep . . ._

"It's an after-effect of the drug."

Kallen did not move to see who it was, but she knew from the tone of voice it was the nurse who came in earlier to perform diagnostics. How long she had been standing there she didn't know. Either way the young'in had her eyes fixed on her blood-kin.

When she saw the tiny hole on the woman's left wrist, Kallen could not will herself to look away. She knew, in a world not-so-long ago, she tried to do the same in a similar manner. (She remembered the knife and the choking silence, waiting for a nirvana which never came).

"What do you mean?" she asked the nurse.

"Well, for one, she can barely speak," she said with a sigh. "Assuming she does recover, it will take time before the drug is out of her system."

But how long a time? she wondered. How long would it be before she snapped from her stupor? Even then, how long would it be before she ever saw the light of day?

The truth hurt. However, it hurt even more to hear it from her own mouth. (But why! Oh, why did things have to be this way? What happened to the good old days when there was no fighting save amongst economic competition?)

_'She has to know. She may not hear it. She may not know it's me who's telling her, but this is my last chance. If I don't tell her, then . . .'_

Then . . .

"Your sentence came," she croaked out, a forced revelation. "It's twenty years." She bowed her head. Say it! she told her mind. Get it off your chest! For they say absence makes the heart grow fonder (oh, but how it is a double-edged sword! How it hurts to look over the other side!).

_'I must! I must!'_ A catharthic mantra. And then, "Wait for me, Mother. By the time you get out, I'll have changed the World where you and I can live peacefully." _'Where we don't have suffer, where we don't have to ache anymore. We'll get everything back. The Sun, the Earth, the Moon, the Sky . . .'_

She saw that memory again, a piece of dream where they lay together in the tall stalks of grass. The wind was cool, open and loving and borne with the scent of white carnation. The sky was wide and clear and blue and free . . . and they lay in lazy throes, and her hair was stroked by long, sun-tanned fingers . . .

"That way . . . That way we can--"

"Do your best."

Warmth flowed, and Kallen let her gaze fall to a hand clapsed atop her own.

"I will wait for you." murmured the woman. "Do your best, Kallen, my daughter."

The walls came crashing down, but Kallen did not care. In the end it was elation which overcame grief, and it showed, showed upon her face (that same face).

"I will!" she declared. Tears spilled forth and a smile broke, happy and painful. Her free hand graced unto her blood-kin's, and she squeezed, tightly, warmly, lovingly. "I will!"

The scar throbbed no more that night.

* * *

I see. This is the reason of your fight, the sole purpose of your existence. For that which is saved cannot be spared, but that which is spared can be saved.

You may not believe me, but I say so that the impossible can be possible. Is this not the founding ideal of resistances and organizations? Is this not why Naoto and Kaname and every civil-minded Eleven wish to challenge the fate bestowed upon them?

Such ways of war can drive them to reckless, foolish means. Even if it were so, is that not why they wish to enact change?

. . . Come, Kallen. Come to me. Come here. I won't hurt you.

Come now, Kallen. There now. Good girl, good girl. Let it out, young'un. Let it all out. I see no shame in your remorse. Let it all out.

I'll let you know, Kallen, that I did not mean to call you selfish. I dared you to challenge your beliefs, so thus did you dare me to revolt. I wanted you to realize your desire, to claim and stake your commandment. But I know better now that you have told me.

Remember, Kallen, and remember well: though the darkness may creep close and none so near, there is a light shining far away. The darkness may be all-consuming, but do not fear it! Go toward the light. Your efforts may just pay off.

There now, there now. Dry your tears. It is done, but there is a long way to go before it is over. You know what you must do.

. . . There is no need to be sorry. You have done nothing wrong.

Here now, why don't you tell me the time you became Zero's Sword? Lelouch may not give you much, but this he gave you Guren, your Crimson Lotus. Though you no longer see him in such a light, that is something to be proud of, is it not?

Take your time, child. Take as much as you need. We have a long night ahead of us.

* * *

**(1)** A Quisling is a British term that is equivalent to the American Benedict. In other words, someone who betrays his or her own country in favor of the invading country. This term is named after Vidkun Quisling, a pro-Nazi Norwegian leader who lead Norway's government during Germany's occupation in World War II.

**(2)** Auguste Rodin was a French sculptor and one of the most widely known of his profession in the world. He did many sculptures, one of which was his most famous, _The Thinker_. The way C.C. sits at the end of Scene Two reflects the posture of this sculpture.


	4. III: Zero's Sword

**Disclaimer :** All characters and places belong to Sunrise Inc., ©2007-2008.

* * *

_"Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem.  
(By the sword it seeks peace but only under liberty)."_  
---- Algernon Sidney

* * *

**III.**

**Zero's Sword**

* * *

"Kallen."

She perked at the sound of the voice, blinking from the sudden intrusion that ended the conversation she was having. Turning around she found herself face to face (_'What face?'_ she queried, mentally kicking herself) with the Renegade of Britannia.

"Z-Zero!" she exclaimed much too enthusiastically for her own tastes. Gathering her composure, she asked more calmly, "What brings you here? Is there something you need from me?"

"Your loyalty and spirit are enough," said the black-clad rebel nonchalantly. (Kallen flushed at that comment.) "But I need nothing of the sort, physically speaking. I came here to offer you a proposal."

Cerulean portals widened. "A . . . proposal?" Shinichirou Tamaki, the other conversant, lifted a brown brow. What could his best buddy want from Naoto's little sister?

Zero nodded. "Yes. Join me. Let's take a walk, shall we?"

"O-Okay." The teenager fell in step with the man.

He turned to his fellow Black Knight. "If you'll excuse us, Tamaki."

Shinichirou frowned inwardly. "Alright then. We can bond some other time."

Once the pair was down the hall and well out of earshot, Zero spoke. "I believe you have seen the new Burai Knightmare, have you not?"

Kallen did. She recalled the tide of awe and pride upon beholding them. "Yes. I heard the Kyoto House retrofitted them from the Glasgow. Do you think they'll be enough to compete with Britannia's Sutherlands?"

"Strength in numbers is not the only way to win a battle," the Renegade reminded her. "It takes a clever mind, plenty of resources, organization and the condition of one's environment to calculate the outcome. One must also account the enemy's strengths and weaknesses, what weaponry they use, what tactics they issue, who their leadier is and so forth.

"But methodologies are just that. They do not give you insight as to what lies behind a person's mask. They do not provide a glimpse into the world's true colors." The overhead lights reflected a myriad of ripples off the tulip-shaped helmet as they neared the warehouse. "As Sun Tzu once said, _If you know both about yourself and your enemy, you can come out of hundreds of battles without danger._ However, do not think the Kyoto House is our ally just because they offered supplements to the battlefront."

"And why not?" asked Kozuki, perplexed. "We're one of them now, aren't we?"

Zero inclined his head. "Ah, but that is where you're wrong. The Kyoto House merely backs such factions. This is only a test."

"Well, I'm just glad we've come far enough to be tested after all."

He chuckled, and Kallen imagined him to be smirking, casting her a sideways glance. "You're quite the optimist, but don't get your hopes _too_ high up. Ah, there it is," Entering the chamber, he gestured to their left. "_This_ is what I wanted to talk to you about."

Following the direction of his gaze, the Black Knight subordinate was welcomed to the sight of a massive, slender crimson Knightmare Frame. From its helm-like head to its gleaning silver right arm, nothing could quell the astonishment gracing her features. She could quite fully express it with words.

Zero introduced her to the impressive model. "Behold: the first Japanese Knightmare Frame, the Guren Nishiki, built and presented to us by the Kyoto House. What you see here is a weapon that is compared to the likes of those of the seventh generation, including Britannia's Lancelot. However, it is also different. The Landspinners can be retracted from the legs instead of being commonly attached to the ankles. It lacks long-range weaponry, but equipped with a knife, a grenade launcher, and a Slash Harken makes it perfect for close-range combat. The right arm is a Nuclear Pulse Emitter; it acts as both a shield and a radiant wave surger that can interfere and destroy a Frame's electronics. At our disposal, it is the most powerful Knightmare Frame."

"This is it," breathed Kallen after spending a moment composing herself. She whirled on the Renegade ecstatically. "This is exactly what we need! With this we'll be on par with Britannia!"

"For now, as of this moment. Keep in mind of what I said."

The girl scratched the back of her neck. "Heh, sorry. But who will pilot it? Have you thought of someone?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. Here." From the folds of his cloak he retrieved an item and tossed it to the surprised and unsuspected redhead. She glanced down at the ignition key, a beautiful white and red feather. "The Guren is yours, Kallen."

"Mine?" she parroted. "Why me? There are many others who are more talented than I am, and you're our leader. Wouldn't it be better if you were to pilot it?"

Zero folded his arms over his chest. "I can pilot a Burai well enough. You, on the other hand, are the Black Knights' Ace. When the situation starts to get rough, that is where you come in. That is when the Sword strikes."

"The Sword? What do you mean?"

"My proposal is this," the man in black said coolly. "Be my Sword. Be the Blade that banishes the taint that is Britannia. A King needs a strong weapon to protect the Shield and its master. After all, you have a reason to fight."

Kallen stared at the key cradled in her palm, a distant, thoughtful cloud curtaining the world around her. She always did find herself fascinated by the rebel's actions, from his quick thinking and evasive maneuvers in Shinjuku to the coordinated attacks at the Lake Kawaguchi Hotel. At one point she didn't imagine she would ever cross paths and be further involved with the war. But now . . . now she had a chance. A choice that, if accepted, that would bring power, renown, fear, hate, and hope in the future.

Hope . . . for the future. For Japan.

"What do you say, Kallen Kozuki?"

For _Yamato-damashii_**(1)**.

She clutched the feather, azure orbs searing resolutely.

"I'll do it."

* * *

Behind his facade, Lelouch vi Britannia closed his eyes and smirked.

_'You made a wise choice, Kallen. A wise choice, indeed.'_

* * *

That was when you earned the nickname "Zero's Sword", the crimson blade that fought with the strength of one thousand demons. It's unfortunate that your title can longer be put to use, since Lelouch is gone.

At least you're calm. I need you at your bravest, Kallen.

Why is that? Because not all tears can bring back the dead. Not all wishes can change the world.

For every action, there is a reaction.

For every choice, a consequence.

For every virtue, a sin.

Do you know where I'm going with this? No? Allow me to explain.

For every angel that walks on earth, a demon follows in its path. Two months ago, before the Black Rebellion, there was you. You and Kaminejima and Suzaku Kururugi. A difference of opinion. Two radical ways to end the war.

By the end of this discussion, I want to know what your answer is:

Angel or demon.

Which one are you?

* * *

**(1)** Literally translates to 'Japanese fighting spirit'.


End file.
